


The Mage Prince (A Taryon Darrington Tale)

by BexLibris



Category: Critical Role (Web Series), The Princess Bride - William Goldman
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Princess Bride AU, Story within a Story, Temporary Character Death, fencing fighting torture revenge you know the rest, it says major character death but you know how the story goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2020-09-02 08:51:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20273248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BexLibris/pseuds/BexLibris
Summary: When Tary arrives for a surprise visit at the de Rolo manor in Whitestone with a new manuscript in his bag, he finds the perfect audience to give it a test run in Madeleine de Rolo, who is sick in bed. He tells her (and the rest of her family) the tale of Caleb Widogast and Mollymauk Tealeaf and their fight for true love.





	1. Prologue: A story begins

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! If this story looks familiar to anyone it's because this is a reupload on this account! I created this account specifically for CR fics so I decided to scoot it over here as it was only two chapters in on the previous upload. So if you'd been reading before, welcome back; if you're joining for the first time, welcome! Let's dive in.

Vex’ahlia de Rolo rushed down the main staircase of Whitestone Castle, a smile on her face. The smile had a twin on the face of one Taryon Darrington, who waited in the foyer, a haversack slung over his shoulder and another bag under his arm.

“Tary, darling!” she said in delight as she reached the bottom and wrapped the man in a hug. “It’s been too long! What are you doing here?”

“Another little adventure for myself,” he replied. “Took me near enough to Whitestone that I figured I’d stop by and say hello. Hope I’m not imposing on you!”

Vex waved the statement away. “Nonsense. We’re always delighted to see old friends. Please, make yourself at home!” A Whitestone servant came up, ready to take Tary’s bags. He slung off the haversack and opened it, pulling out a small book before relinquishing his bags.

“I’ve got a new manuscript I’ve been working on. More of a fictional adventure than one based on life experiences- I figured if I was here I could share some of it with the children and see what they think.”

Vex smiled. “I’m sure they’d love to hear it. In the meantime, Percy is-”

“Uncle Tary!” came a delighted shriek from the top of the staircase. A moment later, Enver de Rolo came stampeding down the stairs. She leapt from the third step into Tary’s arms for a hug, which he gladly delivered, staggering slightly under the weight of the eight-year-old.

“Hello, Enver!” he greeted warmly, mussing her hair gently as he set her down. “You’ve gotten so big! Last time I saw you you were barely four!” 

“I lost a tooth yesterday!” she proclaimed proudly, then flashed a gap-toothed grin to prove it. “It’s my sixth one! I keep hoping they come back pointy like Maddie’s but none have so far.”

“Maybe you’ll get lucky this time, eh?” Tary said. Enver flashed another bright grin and then raced back up the stairs, no doubt wanting to be the one to break the news to her siblings that Uncle Tary had come to visit.

“How’s Madeleine doing, by the way?” Tary asked quietly, once Enver had disappeared up the stairs. “No trouble from the local children, hopefully?”

Vex shook her head. “She fits in fine. Tieflings are not as rare- or as shunned- as they used to be. Percy and I always knew there was a high likelihood of having a tiefling anyways- what with Percy’s history.” Vex chuckled gently. “Her horns started coming in last year- she’s very proud of them.” A thoughtful look came over her face. “Actually, Madeleine might be the perfect audience for your story. She came down with something yesterday and has been stuck in bed. A good story might be just the thing she needs.”

Tary gestured up the stairs with his manuscript. “Then lead the way, my lady.”

Vex led him up the stairs to the children’s rooms and knocked on the third door on the left. “Madeleine, darling? Uncle Tary is here to see you.” She pushed the door open gently.

The eldest de Rolo was sitting up in bed, a sketchpad on her lap. Crumpled sheets of paper lay on the blankets around the teenager and the floor around her bed.

“Hi, Uncle Tary,” she said, congestion evident in her voice. Her skin, normally charcoal, was a pale grey and her red eyes were watery.

“Inspiration not striking today?” Tary said wryly, nodding at the paper all around.

“I can’t think of anything to draw and my hands are too shaky to draw anyways,” Maddie grumbled, setting the pad aside. 

“Perhaps my new story will give you some inspiration?” Tary offered. “Or at the very least offer a break from the doldrums of malaise?”

Maddie settled back against her pillows. “Anything. Please,” she said. Down the hall, the sounds of running feet stampeded closer until four children burst into the room, all yelling Tary’s name. The artificer disappeared briefly under a pile of de Rolos before emerging, somehow looking entirely unruffled. 

“Greetings, my young de Rolos,” Tary said with a grin. “Perhaps you’d all like to join us for an epic tale of adventure and romance?”

Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo IV (or ‘Freddie,’ as he’d chosen for his sobriquet) stuck out his tongue in peak thirteen-year-old form

“I don’t want  _ romance _ ,” he scoffed. “Romance is  _ dumb _ .” 

Enver smacked him on the arm. “No it’s  _ not _ ,” she argued.

Sidney crossed his arms, ever the obstinate middle child. “Yeah, it  _ is _ ,” he replied.

“You don’t hafta  _ stay _ , then,” chimed in Leonor. 

Enver pulled her twin sister to her side. “Yeah. You don’t have to stay.  _ We _ can just stay and listen and  _ you _ can go away.”

Sidney pouted. “Well… it’s fine because it’s Uncle Tary’s story.”

Madeleine clapped her hands. “If you are all going to stay, then you have to be  _ quiet _ , because I’m sick and that means I get to make the storytime rules.” 

Her younger siblings all chattered for a moment as they scrambled to find seats on the floor while Tary pulled an armchair from the corner of the room.

  
“All right,” he said, settling down and opening the manuscript. “ _ The Mage Prince _ , by Taryon Darrington. Chapter One.  _ Caleb Widogast was raised on a small farm in the town of Blumenthal on the continent of Wildemount. His favorite pastimes were reading and teasing the tiefling farmhand. The farmhand’s name was Molly, but Caleb never called him that. _ ”


	2. Chapter 1

Caleb was sitting in an armchair by the fireplace, a book in his hands and Frumpkin, his familiar, snuggled in his lap. He was so engrossed in the book that he only noticed his fire was dying when he found himself squinting to read the words on the page. Reluctantly shooing Frumpkin from his lap, he went to place another log on the fire and found himself taking the last one from the basket. He tossed it on the fire and left the room. 

He made his way outside where a lavender-skinned tiefling was busy hauling buckets of water to the farmhouse for the animals.

_ “Landei!” _ he called as he approached. Molly glanced up from the water pump.

“Tear yourself away from your book at last?” Molly asked with a grin. “What can I do for you on this fine summer evening?”

“I, ah…” When had being around Molly made him so tongue-tied? “We are out of wood for the fireplace inside. Please chop some more,” he said. “When...when you have the time,” he added as an afterthought.

“Of course,” Molly said. “Anything else I can do for you?”

“ _ Nein _ ,” Caleb said. “I... am satisfied, for now.” 

As he turned away, he caught Molly’s wink and he hurried inside before Molly could see the pink flush creeping up his face.

\---------------

“When does the adventure start?” Sidney whined. He was immediately pummeled with pillows from both sides by his younger sisters.

“He’s only been reading for two minutes!” Leonor said, adding one more smack with the pillow for good measure. “Maddie said be quiet!”

Sidney grumbled something under his breath but settled back against Madeleine’s bed. Tary winked at him. 

“Don’t you worry, young Sidney. Adventure is right around the corner.” He glanced back down at the book and continued reading. “_As the weeks went by, Caleb came to the realization that he loved Molly, and more importantly- Molly loved him back._”

\---------------

Caleb found himself making every excuse to ask Molly to perform even the smallest task. One day, he went outside, still trying to think up a job for Molly as he walked. Molly was leaning against the side of the barn, arms crossed casually, almost as though he was waiting for him.

“What can I do for you today, Caleb?” Molly asked. “Perhaps I’ll be refolding the extra bedding for the fifth time in a week?” His ribbing was accompanied by a twinkle in his eye and there was no real bite behind the words.

“I…” Caleb hesitated for a moment.

“You know, Caleb, it might not be my place to say, being just your lowly  _ landei _ ,” Molly said. “But you do know if you want to talk to me, you can just talk.”

Caleb’s brain failed him for a moment. “Your Zemnian is terrible,” was the first thing he could think to say. “I didn’t realize… I didn’t think you ever wanted to talk.”

Molly laughed. Caleb realized he’d never heard Molly laugh before, and by the gods it was a beautiful sound. 

“Oh, Caleb, you are so smart, and yet so oblivious,” Molly said as his chuckles died away. 

“ _ Was _ ...I would have thought you would rather be anywhere else,” Caleb mumbled, glancing down. “I have not been the kindest over the years.”

Molly reached out and tapped a finger under Caleb’s chin, making him look up. “First of all, I’m the farmhand. It’s my job to help with tasks around the farm. Second, if I  _ really  _ hated it here, I would have left.” Seeing the worry flash over Caleb’s face at those words, he laughed again, more gently. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t have left you to fend for yourself. That would be cruel.” 

“I can take care of myself just fine-” Caleb spluttered, feeling the heat of a blush creeping up his face. 

Molly smirked. “Oh, I have no doubt you can take care of yourself. I just don’t know if you would have survived pining for me.”

Caleb blinked once. Twice. Words were just not coming. 

“Caleb, your feelings for me have been written on your face for months,” Molly said, though not unkindly. “It’s been very sweet.” He reached forward and took Caleb’s hand, kissing the back of it. “And I figured it was time to help you move past the pining-from-afar phase of your love.” He used the hand he was holding to gently tug Caleb closer and kissed him on the cheek. “Is that all right?”

Caleb still couldn’t find any words in his brain, which was unusual for him, but he found himself reaching up to take Molly’s face in his hands and pull him close for a kiss. Molly leaned in immediately, wrapping his arms around Caleb’s waist. His tail snaked around Caleb’s leg.

When they finally broke apart, just slightly out of breath, Molly pressed his forehead to Caleb’s. “I’ve been waiting so long for you to do that,” he said in delight. 

“Marry me,” Caleb blurted, finally finding some words floating around in his head. After a pause, he pulled away from Molly. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I- if you don’t want to, I understand, I shouldn’t have said that-”

Molly took him gently by the shoulders and pulled him in for another kiss, staunching the flow of words from Caleb’s lips. “Yes,” he said simply.

“ _ W-was- _ ”

“Yes, of course I’ll marry you,” Molly elaborated. “A hundred times, yes.”

\-----------------

Tary glanced up. The girls were all gazing at him attentively, while the boys were fidgeting and looking like they were going to get up and leave soon.

“I know the romance isn’t to your liking, but if you leave now, you’ll miss the bloodhunters and the pirates…” Tary said. Both boys’ attention snapped to him at the final word.

“Pirates are good,” Sidney said. Freddie nodded his agreement.

“Even if there weren’t pirates,” came a voice from the doorway, “I hardly would want to leave in the middle of one of Tary’s stories.” Tary turned to find Vex and Percy the Third leaning in the doorway. “We couldn’t stay away when we heard you had a new tale to share,” continued Percy with a twinkle in his eye.

“Don’t stop on our account,” Vex added. 

Tary winked, and continued his story. “ _ Neither Molly nor Caleb were terribly wealthy men, so Molly set out into the world to seek his fortune. _ ”

\-----------------

Caleb sat on Molly’s bed watching Molly pack his few possessions into his satchel, including the precious glass swords that he’d arrived at the farm with. Caleb gazed at the weapons.

“I have always wondered about those swords,” Caleb said.

Molly held one up, angling it so that the torchlight flashed along the blade. “Picked ‘em up at the carnival that I worked at before I came here.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. “Are they just for show, or can you fight with them as well?”

Molly twirled the sword expertly. “With the best of them. Not that I did so in any show- I was a carnie, a barker. Went around and brought the hype for the show whenever we went to a new town.”

Caleb watched the blade spin. “I wish you did not have to go so soon,” he said after a moment. 

Molly stopped spinning the blade and gazed at him fondly. “I know,” he said. “But if I don’t go now, I’ll just have to go in the future. No sense in waiting.” He walked over and placed a gentle kiss on the top of Caleb’s head. 

Caleb felt tears spring to his eyes at the touch. “I just fear I will never see you again,” he whispered. 

Molly pulled him to his feet. “Hey now,” he said, gathering Caleb into a tight hug. “No tears now. Time for that later, all right? Save ‘em for when I get back. Save them for our wedding.”

Caleb wiped his eyes and nodded before pulling Molly back into the hug. “Then let me stock up on this to tide me over until you return.”

“That I can do,” Molly said.

Molly departed the following morning. The two of them stood by the gate and embraced one last time.

“Do you promise you will return?” Caleb asked.

“Cross my heart,” Molly said, taking Caleb’s face in his hands. “And you know how I can be sure?”

“Do tell me,” Caleb said, the hint of a smile playing around his lips.

“Because this is true love,” Molly said. “You think this happens every day?” He pressed his lips to Caleb’s. “Is that good enough?”

“ _ Ja _ ,” Caleb replied. “I am satisfied. For now.” 

“I love you,” Molly said as he turned and opened the gate.

“ _ Ich liebe dich, _ ” Caleb replied as Molly set off along the path that led over the hills and into the countryside.

Caleb watched his fiance until the tiny purple form disappeared over the hills and went back inside.

As the days without Molly turned into weeks, Caleb threw himself into his magic books and the farmwork to distract himself. He waited anxiously for Molly’s letters, telling him of the band of hired hands he had joined up with ( _ The Tomb Takers, Caleb, isn’t that the most delightful name?) _ and the places he was seeing. One of the letters came all the way from the Menagerie Coast, and included a bright blue feather that Molly said he had the twin of. Caleb tucked the feather carefully into one of his books.

Then the letters stopped coming. Caleb went almost a month without any word from Molly. He fretted, hardly eating or sleeping until one day, he heard the footsteps of the messenger coming up the path once again. He hurried out to meet the young girl, who handed him a single page of rolled vellum. Caleb was a little confused, as most of Molly’s letters so far had been several pages (partially due to the fact that Molly’s handwriting was atrociously large). He unrolled it and wandered back towards the farmhouse as the girl hurried back down the path.

_ From the Shady Creek Mercenaries’ Guild _

_ To the family of Mollymauk Tealeaf, _

_ We regret to inform you that the group known as The Tomb Takers has been captured by the Dread Bloodhunter Lucien. All members of the group are presumed dead. _

_ We are sorry for your loss. Any items of the deceased’s in our possession will be returned to you at the earliest convenience. _

Caleb’s knees gave out, and he went sprawling to the ground, the letter falling from his grasp as he hit the dirt path.

It wasn’t possible.

It couldn’t be possible.

Molly had to come home.

Molly had to come back to him.

Kneeling in the dust, Caleb made a vow to himself.

“As long as I live, I will love no other. I… I  _ cannot  _ love another.”

  
\-----------------

Enver sniffled and wrapped her arms around Leonor. “Uncle Tary, he’s not dead, right?”

Tary glanced around at the de Rolo children. All three girls had wetness in their eyes, and even the boys looked a little misty-eyed. 

“I didn’t wannit to go that far,” Freddie mumbled. 

“Fear not, young de Rolos,” Tary said. “The story’s just begun. And true love may win out yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm on tumblr at caliannamordsson.tumblr.com!


	3. Chapter 2

Princess Astrid of Rexxentrum was built like a runner, lithe and tall, with rich dark skin. She had dark, close-cropped hair that showed off her slightly pointed ears. Atop her head sat a thin silver filigree crown, on the days she deigned to put it on. Being a princess, marriage, royal duties- all sat at the back of her mind most days while she focused on her real delight: poison.

Astrid loved poison. She delighted in the way it could be hidden in anything, in all the ways it could be applied- powders, liquids, pastes, pills. For many years she had traveled the world, searching Exandria for the finest ingredients to make the deadliest poisons. She had traveled to Marquet, to Draconia, to Vasselheim, but in recent years she had been forced to stay closer to home as her father’s health had started to deteriorate.

To make up for it, she had begun collecting plants and ingredients in her travels. She built an underground storehouse to keep her collection and continue her experiments. The only ones who knew the location were herself and her count, Eodwulf, and it was in this underground cavern that Eodwulf found her one day in late summer.

“Your Highness, your mother is requesting your presence up in the castle,” the elven man said. His long dark hair was tied up in a tidy knot at the base of his skull, revealing the marred ear on the right side of his head. The long point and much of the top of the helix had been ripped off long ago in a fight with an owlbear. “Apparently your father’s health has been in a much more rapid decline as of late.”

“I would be surprised if it hadn’t,” Astrid said without looking up from one of her work tables. “I switched out his nightly pills weeks ago.” She added a couple drops of a pinkish liquid to her beaker and watched the mixture for a moment, then stoppered it and slipped off the tall stool. “I presume she wishes me to hasten my search for a husband.”

“She does.” Eodwulf clasped his hands behind his back. “Might I make a suggestion?”

“Please,” Astrid said, tidying up some of the various containers and bottles on her workbench. 

“If you still plan to frame Tal’dorei for this future husband’s eventual murder, why go through so much stress selecting one? Pick a commoner, even. Someone... insignificant.”

Astrid chuckled. “Wulf, what would I do without you? Alert my mother that I’ll be journeying to the Zemni fields. I’ll choose someone from the outlying villages. Give a commoner the taste of the royal life.”

Eodwulf inclined his head slightly. “Of course, Highness.” The two headed for the stairs, Astrid turning at the foot of the staircase and calling out.

“Spurt, finish tidying, will you?”

A kobold scurried from a small doorway in the wall, nodding furiously. “Yes, Princess Astrid,” he squeaked as the two nobles ascended the staircase.

They emerged in a forested area on the castle grounds, coming out through what appeared to be the trunk of a tree.

“Remind me again how you accomplished this?” Astrid asked, waving her hand through the illusory trunk.

“A modified Programmed Illusion,” Eodwulf replied. “I came across an old book written by a wizard named Ikithon who lived long ago. It required a couple more components to make it permanent but nothing terribly unattainable- for myself, at any rate.”

“Excellent work,” Astrid said. “I’ve found myself growing away from magic use as the years go by. Poisons are so much more reliable.” 

The pair made their way up to the castle, parting ways in the courtyard. Astrid headed for the stables and carriage house and ordered her carriage and horses to be harnessed immediately before going to pack a traveling bag. 

Before long, the carriage was rolling through the town and off towards the Zemni fields.

It was a little less than half a day before they arrived in the small town. Many of the locals were out on the streets of town buying and selling wares or just talking with one another. All eyes fell on the carriage; deep blue with gold trim as it stopped just before where the buildings began. A silence fell as Astrid stepped delicately down the two steps and onto the ground. She knew she cut a striking figure with her wine-colored tunic edged in silver and solid black pants- no dresses for  _ her _ , thank you very much. Too much mobility lost in a skirt.

“I am Princess Astrid of Rexxentrum. I have some business to conduct in town. Return to your normal activities and do not impede my travel.” The Blumenthal citizens averted their eyes and continued what they’d been doing, albeit in much more hushed tones. 

Astrid strolled casually through the streets, occasionally striking up a conversation with someone she passed. None seemed right, though. Though they were only to be at the palace for a few months, they had to at least have the potential for royalty. 

No one was cutting it. Too much cowering from this man; too much bowing and scraping from that one; this one was far too scrappy-looking.

Astrid was beginning to worry that she’d have to travel farther away to find a husband- or worse, that she’d have to settle for some suitor from another kingdom. It really would upset her plans if she was forced to wed a prince from Tal’Dorei; an assassination perpetrated by a Tal’Doreian was not as plausible.

She’d already sent away so many suitors that the queen was sure to stop giving her a choice, which was why she  _ must _ find someone on her own. Someone that wouldn’t be missed by many. Someone who could become a martyr and whip the Wildmount citizens into waging war against Tal’Dorei. Someone…

Astrid had been so lost in thought that she hadn’t realized that she’d wandered out of the town proper and was heading into the surrounding farmland. A modest farmhouse sat on the side of the road in front of her. The front yard was fenced in, and a small stable sat in the back.

A man was out in the field on the other side of the house. At first glance he appeared to be… dancing? No, that wasn’t it. As Astrid watched, she recognized several of the movements. They were somatic spell components, and as Astrid drew closer, she heard arcane words being shouted as well. Flames erupted from the man’s hands and sprouted into a wall of fire curving in a gentle arc around him. The grass around the flames turned black and the air shimmered with heat, but the man put his hands on his hips in a self-satisfied way and watched the flames for a moment before dispelling them with a wave of his hand. 

“You, there,” Astrid called. The man jumped slightly before turning to face her.

He had reddish-brown hair, pulled into a small, neat ponytail. Bright blue eyes stood out against his ruddy skin, which was smudged with dirt in several places on his cheeks and arms. Despite the dirt… he had potential. And he seemed to be a talented mage as well.

“What is your name?” Astrid called.

“Caleb. Caleb Widogast,” the man said. His gaze drifted to the filigree crown sitting gently atop Astrid’s head, and he bowed slightly. “Your Highness,” he added.

“I am Princess Astrid of Rexxentrum. I have come to your town in my search for a husband,” Astrid said, the inflections making it hard to misinterpret her meaning.

“Would it not be more prudent to seek a spouse of royal lineage?” Caleb asked. “It cannot be a good image for the kingdom to marry such a lowly commoner like myself.”

“The kingdom’s image is not your concern,  _ landei _ ,” she snapped, and Caleb flinched slightly at the name. A pained expression appeared on his face briefly before he composed himself and was impassive once more.

“I cannot marry you,” he said simply. “I have sworn to myself to love no one else.”

Astrid scoffed. “I do not care about  _ love _ . Were it not for the pressures of the king and queen, I would not even consider taking a husband, but the kingdom must have an heir. So, Caleb Widogast, you have two choices. Marry me, and live the rest of your life in comfort. Or-” Astrid let her fingers rest on the hilt of the dagger on her hip. Caleb’s gaze followed the movement.

No words were necessary.

“Very well,” Caleb said eventually. “I will marry you, Princess Astrid.”

\---------------

“That’s not  _ fair _ ,” Leonor whined. “She’s not a very nice princess. She shouldn’t be allowed to make people do things they don’t wanna.” Her siblings nodded in agreement.

Maddie had her sketchbook propped up on her lap and flipped it around, showing Tary what she’d done so far. Captured skillfully in simple pencil strokes were images of Caleb and Molly locked in an embrace; Astrid bent over her workbench, fumes rising around her; Caleb in front of a wall of flames, hands on his hips.

“I have been looking for an illustrator for the final copy,” Tary said with a twinkle in his eye. Maddie grinned, stuffy nose forgotten.


	4. Chapter 3

Tary reached the beginning of the next chapter and looked up. “Are you all enjoying the story so far? Any critiques? I always welcome constructive criticism.”

“Just keep _ going _!” Enver said, gently thumping Tary’s leg with a pillow. “We need to know what happens!”

Tary laughed. “Very well. Where were we?” He glanced down. “_ Five years later, the city of Rexxentrum was deep in preparations for their three hundredth anniversary celebration. The city square was full of people waiting with bated breath, for today was the day that Princess Astrid announced her betrothed to the city.” _

* * *

Astrid stood at the doors to the balcony, idly picking at her cuffs while she waited for her parents to arrive. A scowl flitted across her face, as it did every time the thought of both her still-living parents crossed her mind. A cleric had been brought to the castle and had not only managed to restore her father’s health but, irritatingly, had figured out that he’d been poisoned externally. She’d fired the cleric, but had been forced to halt her efforts to avoid incurring suspicion. 

The room’s doors opened behind her and Astrid put a bright smile on her face before turning around.

“Mother, Father!” she said cheerily. “Isn’t it a wonderful day?”

“Oh, truly,” her mother said. “Three hundred years of prosperity for the kingdom, your father’s health is finally on the ascent, and the kingdom will finally know our lovely Caleb.”

“What a quick study he’s been,” the king added. “So much to learn about what it takes to be a prince but he’s done it in five years!”

“Quite,” Astrid said with a tight smile. Through the doors, she heard the sound of a trumpet fanfare and she whipped around, letting her fake smile drop in favor of an expression more haughty and proud. She strode through the balcony doors, emerging onto a wide stone terrace overlooking the city square. The crowd gathered below, packed tight as berries in a jar, roared as they caught sight of her and she tolerated the applause for a few moments before raising her hands for silence.

“My people,” she said, her voice reverberating over the square. “In a few short weeks, our country will celebrate its three hundredth anniversary. I have searched the kingdoms for someone worthy of becoming my king, and I have at last found someone. Once a commoner from the town of Blumenthal - one of your own countrymen. Would you like to meet him?”

The townspeople cheered, the sound rolling around the square like the echo of a cannon. Astrid held out her hand towards one of the doorways that opened onto the square, and the crowd fell silent, turning towards it, craning their necks as they hoped to catch their first glimpse of their prince.

\---------

Caleb stepped out of the doorway, feeling uncomfortable and trying to keep how miserable he felt from showing on his face. He hated the feeling of everyone’s eyes on him. He resisted the urge to fiddle with the cuffs of the heavy wine-colored tunic he wore. He wished he could snap Frumpkin into his arms as he stepped out from what felt like the relative safety of the doorway. Without prompting, the crowd began to kneel in front of him, the movement spreading like a ripple out from the people nearest him. He said nothing, though his gaze darted around the square like a cornered animal’s. He happened to glance up at the royal balcony where Astrid stood, surveying he subjects. She met his eyes and wore an expression that was hard to read at this distance, but she seemed... self-satisfied? Was there something else there too, something… darker? She allowed a few more moments of the crowd admiring him before she dismissed him with a nod. Caleb bowed to the crowd, waving graciously as he’d been taught, before retreating as fast as was acceptable.

\---------

When Caleb was finally able to return to his room, he shed his heavy royal tunic and discarded the simple crown he’d been given in favor of a simpler brown tunic and a blue scarf that he wound around his neck before slipping into the servants’ passages- the ones used by the staff to move unseen through the palace. One of the kinder maids had shown him an entrance in the first couple weeks he’d been at the palace and it had taken him only a week more to memorize the layouts. He hurried through the darker halls, murmuring quiet greetings to the staff that he passed along the way. They were long since used to seeing their prince travel through their network of tunnels- and indeed, many pitied the prince. Their princess’ disdain and chilly demeanor was not lost on any of them.

Caleb practically burst through a door on the side of the castle, breathing in the warm summer air. He headed for the forest that bordered the side of the castle, breaking into a jog as he passed between the wide tree trunks. His footfalls were muffled by the leaves, grass, and other forest detritus that littered the forest floor. Once he was far enough away from the castle, he sat down against a tree with a bump, panting slightly. He snapped his fingers, summoning Frumpkin into his lap, and gathered the cat into his arms, burying his face in the soft orange fur.

“Perhaps I could just run away, _ katz, _” he murmured. “Anything would be better than this.”

He tipped his head back against the tree trunk and conjured a couple globules of lights, making them bob gently as Frumpkin batted at them. 

Caleb sat in the quiet woods, eyes closed, listening to the sound of the breeze weaving through the leaves of the trees, until a new sound reached him.

The sound of footfalls- several sets of footfalls. Caleb opened his eyes and looked around, but there was no one in front of him. He snapped Frumpkin away and stood, peering around the other side of the tree. Three figures were approaching, and they made a colorful crew.

In the lead was a tall elven woman with a mane of red hair tumbling out from under the brim of her hat. She wore a sleeveless coat with a small scarf around her throat and long gloves that covered most of her arms. A rapier hung from her belt and tall boots reached up to her thighs.

Trailing a few meters behind her were a blue tiefling woman and a half-orc man with green skin. The tiefling grinned and waved at Caleb, but the half-orc didn’t meet his eyes.

“Pardon me, Highness,” the elven woman purred. Her accent was something unfamiliar to Caleb, maybe from the Southern coasts. “We seem to have gotten a bit turned around. We are looking for the harbor.”

Caleb narrowed his eyes. “You are awfully far out of your way,” he said. “This city is landlocked. The only nearby harbor is in the Erdeloch, and that is several miles away.”

The woman cocked an eyebrow. “Then that is several miles we will have to drag your body,” she said smoothly. Caleb’s stomach dropped and he scrambled backwards before turning to run but he barely made it ten paces before a whirl of bright colors flashed through the air in front of him, sending a stab of pain pulsing through his head. He staggered, trying to shake off the waves of dizziness beginning to wash over him, but to his horror, his limbs began to lock up and his panic faded to a barely-there ping in the back of his mind. He should run… he should go… with these people? The woman came around to face him, studying him for a moment. Then she nodded at someone out of his sight line, and something cracked across the back of his head, sending him straight into unconsciousness.

\---------

Avantika watched the prince crumple at her feet, the tiefling behind him with the butt of her whip still raised. “A solid hit, Jester,” she mused. “Pick him up.” She turned on her heel and strode away into the forest. 

Jester bent down and carefully scooped up Caleb’s limp form. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She touched the already-swelling knot on the back of his head as her hand glowed with healing magic. “Please don’t wake up yet, though. Avantika will be mad.”

“Hurry up!” snapped Avantika, already a dozen yards away. “Fjord, have you hidden the crest?”

The half-orc turned, a metallic object in his hand. “Not yet, Captain. I was just about to.”

“Why do we have to drop an Arms of Emon crest here?” Jester asked. 

Avantika sighed. “Because, _ Petit Saphir _ , when the crest is found by the Rexxentrum citizens, they will think their _ beloved _ prince has been abducted by Tal’Dorei forces. And when his body turns up on Tal’Dorei shores, it will be obvious what happened. Her highness Princess Astrid will have no choice but to declare war on Tal’Dorei, and this kingdom will grow.”

Fjord frowned. “You never said anything about murder or startin’ wars when we joined up,” he said.

Avantika scoffed. “You pledged fealty to me and my endeavors when you joined my crew.” Her gloved hand rested on the hilt of her sword. “And you were made aware of the punishment for dissent.” Fjord scowled but said nothing.

“I offered you power,” Avantika hissed. “I offered you a way out of your miserable port life. Any sailor would _ kill _ to have the opportunity to join the crew of the _ Squall-Eater _ . Do not throw away this chance in a moment of weakness for _ him _.” Avantika gestured to Caleb, limp in Jester’s arms. Then she made a noise of disgust, turning to continue on her way.

Jester sidled up to Fjord as they walked after Avantika. “Don’t worry, Fjord,” she whispered. “I can probably ask the Traveler to teach me how to resurrect people, so even if she kills him, I can wake him up, probably.”

No one looked back as they headed in the direction of the river, which meant no one saw a figure dressed in black peer out from the shadows of a tall tree, silently watching them walk away, before darting away.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention in the last chapter that while we did learn the name of the first de Rolo child in the Dalen's Closet one-shot, I'm not going to go back and change Madeleine's name or anything to match; I like my tief baby too much to get rid of her...

The trio made their way to the river where a sailboat was moored to a small jetty. Fjord set about undoing the ropes that lashed the boat to the dock while Jester carried Caleb on board, followed by Avantika, who began lowering the sails and taking in ropes. Jester set Caleb in the corner of the deck, leaning him up against the guardrail and giving his head another pulse of healing magic while Avantika wasn’t looking before straightening up and hurrying to help the captain with the rigging. Avantika tied off a rope and dug a pair of handcuffs out of her coat pocket.

“Put these on  _ His Highness _ ,” she said, disdain evident in her voice. “He’s a mage. These will quell his powers.”

Jester took the cuffs, feeling their dampening powers even without putting them on. It made her slightly nauseous and she whispered an apology to Caleb as she clamped them around his wrists. Fjord jumped into the boat holding a coil of rope as the boat began to slide away from the dock, pulled both by the river’s current and then wind in the sail. He took his position at the wheel and guided the boat into the middle of the wide river. Jester hopped up onto the quarterdeck with him while Avantika disappeared to her quarters belowdecks.

“I feel bad about kidnapping someone,” Jester murmured. “He seems very nice and he was going to get  _ married _ soon.” 

“Frankly I wouldn’t be too upset about not gettin’ married to the Crown Princess,” Fjord muttered. “She’s not exactly known for her kindness.”

“Is she really that bad?” Jester asked. “We didn’t really hear much about her down in Nicodranas.”

“Well…” Fjord lowered his already quiet voice. “Nothin’ that can be proven. But rumors fly amongst sailors. They say she had a younger brother who was in line to take the throne- male line of succession, and all. Outweighed her being the first-born child. He died a few years back out of the blue- perfectly healthy before. No one ever figured out how it had happened. Clerics tried that thing where they make the corpse talk for a bit-”

“ _ Speak With Dead _ ,” Jester interjected helpfully. “I can do that! It’s  _ so _ creepy.”

“Yeah,” Fjord said. “Anyway, the prince couldn’t tell them what had happened to him. He didn’t know- he’d just  _ died _ . Left Princess Astrid as the heir to the throne.”

“And people think it was Astrid?” Jester whispered. 

Fjord shrugged. “Before she had to stay in the kingdom because of her father’s health, she would travel the world and pick up ingredients and components. No one knows exactly why but plenty of people suspect poison.”

Jester placed a hand gently on her lips. “Oh, wow. Then why marry in the first place if she’s just going to kill him?”

Fjord looked over at the still-unconscious Caleb. “Probably because there’s some law that says she needs to take a husband in order to properly inherit the throne, or something.”

“I feel sorry for him,” Jester said sadly. “Are you sure we can’t just release him? We can tell Avantika he jumped overboard or something.”

“Yeah, if you can get those cuffs off him,” Fjord said. “And if you can figure out some way to prevent Avantika from killing us when she finds out.”

“I’ll ask the Traveler,” Jester said. “Maybe he can help me think of something.”

Down on the main deck, Caleb was not quite as unconscious as he seemed. Jester’s healing had accelerated his return to consciousness and he was now feigning sleep in the corner of the deck. He could make out some of the crewmates’ conversation, and while his spirits were somewhat lifted to hear that they were not at all as loyal to Avantika as she thought, they were crushed even more to hear of the terrors Avantika was rumored to have caused and his low chances of escape.

His stomach was turning from both the motion of the boat and the cuffs that were ratcheted around his wrists. His magic was being squashed deep down inside of him and the feeling was awful. Magic was supposed to be allowed to flourish within a person, and the repression was physically damaging.

He caught the end of the conversation. “ _ Are you sure we can’t just release him? We can tell Avantika he jumped overboard or something. _ ”

Now that was an idea. If he could make it to the bank, he could disappear into the woods before the ship had time to slow down. He was already right near the rail of the ship; it shouldn’t be too much further to the banks of the river. Even with the cuffs he could very likely manage it. He cracked open his eyes to glance at the crew members by the helm. Though the half-orc faced forward towards the wheel, his head was tipped toward the tiefling. 

_ Tiefling. _ A pang of desiderium shot through him. Molly’s death still caused an ache deep in his chest, even five years later. This tiefling reminded him so much of Molly- the exuberance, the bright colors, the cheerful grin.

He closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself- and heard booted footsteps marching up from belowdecks. It must be the captain- which meant it was now or never. With clumsy hands, he pushed himself to his feet. He heard Jester’s yelp as he hurled himself over the rail, falling with a  _ fwoosh _ into the cold water.

Bubbles billowed around him as he kicked for the surface, breaking the water with a gasp. The weathered brown wood of the ship slid by him in the water and the sounds of Avantika screeching reached his ears. He struggled to turn around towards the bank of the river-

And felt his stomach lurch in horror as he saw no riverbank in sight. The choppy water stretched out before him, and with a sinking feeling, he realized that they must have reached the end of the river and entered the Erdeloch while he was unconscious. Resolutely, he began swimming away anyways, taking awkward strokes with his cuffed hands and kicking his feet frantically. He had barely made it five yards, however, when he felt a wave of magic descend around him like a blanket. His limbs began to lock up and to his dismay, he recognized the effects of a  _ Hold Person _ spell. He struggled to shake off the magic, but it clamped onto him and he began to skin into the water. He sucked in a breath just before he disappeared below the surface. 

\-------

Tary stopped reading. The younger de Rolos were clinging to one another and gazing up at him with worried expressions.

“He doesn’t drown,” Tary reassured them.

Enver blinked. “What?”

“Caleb doesn’t sink and drown,” Tary repeated. “You just looked quite worried; I wanted to reassure you.”

Enver glanced at Leonor, whom she was hugging tightly, with Leonor returning the gesture. “We weren’t worried,” she mumbled. 

“ _ I _ was nervous!” Leonor cried. “Keep going!”

“Are you sure? We could take a break-”

“ _ Keep reading!”  _ five quarter-elf voices shrieked in unison.

“All right, all right,” Tary chuckled. “Let’s see… ah, yes.  _ He sucked in a breath just before he disappeared below the surface.” _

\-------

He didn’t sink long before an arm wrapped around his waist. It was green, with brown leather bracers around the wrists, and he realized it must belong to the half-orc. He was hauled back to the surface and towed skillfully toward the ship. In the back of his mind, Caleb gathered that the half-orc must have spent lots of time on the water.

They reached the ship in moments and Caleb was pulled on board by the tiefling woman, the half-orc climbing back up shortly afterward. He sat, soaked and shivering, on the deck, while the captain glared down at him.

“You are quite daring, Highness,” she spat. “But I am afraid that you are quite outmatched aboard this boat.” She turned, her sleeveless coat billowing out and hitting Caleb’s face as she did. “Let me enumerate. You are in the company of three accomplished spellcasters and fighters. I am Captain Avantika. I am blessed with an otherworldly pact with a powerful entity; as is Fjord.” She inclined her head towards the half-orc, who looked decidedly very uncomfortable. “Jester, on the other hand,” Avantika continued, “Is a cleric of a mysterious trickster god. She’s quite strong and as talented with her strength as she is with her magic. I have no doubt that any of us could incapacitate you with very little trouble.”

Jester was looking to the stern of the boat with a puzzled expression on her face. “Avantika-” she began, but Avantika waved her hand to silence her.

“No one knows where you are. No one in the kingdom knows who  _ we _ are.”

Jester tried again. “Captain, I really think you should-”

“Not  _ now _ ,” Avantika snapped at Jester before turning back to Caleb. “So, Highness, you may as well just sit back and enjoy the trip to Tal’Dorei.”

Once Jester was sure Avantika had finished her speech, she began again. “Captain, there’s a boat following us!” She pointed towards the stern. The smirk Avantika wore began to melt off her face as she rushed to the rail to peer behind them. Caleb craned his neck and could just make out the shape of another ship, perhaps a mile away, heading in their direction. 

“Why did you not tell me?” Avantika hissed at Jester.

“I  _ tried, _ ” Jester grumbled, her tail switching in irritation. “You didn’t let me.”

Avantika huffed, but couldn’t argue, and took a spyglass from her belt, training it on the other boat. “It does not matter. Even if they are pursuing us, we will reach the other side of the Endeloch before they can catch up and I do not imagine that they have the same method of ascending the cliffs there that we do.” She smiled a grim, self-satisfied smile. 

The ship did gain, though, even with all three crew members taking turns using Control Water. By the time they reached the sheer, rocky cliffs at the edge of the Endeloch, the ship was less than a hundred yards behind them. They docked at a tiny pier at the foot of the cliffs, the rocks rising up dozens of stories in front of them. Avantika stepped down the gangplank with Fjord, Jester, and Caleb trailing behind her, Caleb still damp from his swim. Jester was steering Caleb by his bicep, though her grip was not unfriendly. Avantika placed her hands on her hips and gazed up at the cliff, then turned to look at Fjord and Jester. “If you two would do the honors.”

Jester tightened her grip on Caleb’s arm and a split second later, the world turned momentarily white to Caleb’s eyes. Suddenly, they were standing at the top of the cliff, looking down at the two remaining crew members a few hundred feet below. They watched the small figures of Fjord and Avantika link hands and vanish, appearing slightly closer clinging to the cliff face before vanishing again. Thunderous booms echoed down the cliffs and across the water with each disappearance and within moments, they had joined Jester and Caleb at the top of the cliff- just as the other ship crashed into theirs, the single occupant diving skillfully away and landing on the dock. They put their hands on their hips and stared up at the top of the cliff as if considering a climb. Then they put a hand on one of the swords strapped to their hip and disappeared, appearing a moment later clinging to the cliff face about thirty feet from the base.

Avantika snarled and cursed in some unknown language as they disappeared again, slowly making their way up the cliff face. Their leaps were not as great as Fjord and Avantika’s had been, but they were steadily growing closer. Avantika reached down, greenish-blue energy gathering around her hand before exploding down towards the figure. They disappeared, however, and the eldritch energy burst harmlessly against the cliff face, sending rocks tumbling down towards the ground. 

Avantika cursed again before turning to Fjord. “I leave their fate in your capable hands. If you can deal with them before they reach the top, wonderful. If you cannot, kill them once they are up here. We are heading northwest. Join us at our arranged meeting point once you have dispatched them.” She strode off through the ruins at the top of the cliff, Jester following with Caleb in tow. Jester shot Fjord a worried look as she followed Avantika, disappearing quickly past the ruins. Fjord turned back to the cliff face. The figure was almost at the top, and Fjord could make out more details now, catching flashes of color with each teleportation. They were dressed all in black- mask, flowy shirt, tight pants, and tall boots. Their skin was a light lavender, and deeper purple hair was visible on top of their head and gathered in a ponytail at the nape of their neck. Horns curled out from their forehead, laden with gold and silver charms and piercings and studded with gems. Fjord could just make out tattoos on their cheek and a tail lashing behind them when they appeared about forty feet below him- and didn’t disappear again. They clung to the cliff face, tapping at one of their swords with their tail. They glanced up at Fjord. 

“Well, this is quite embarrassing,” they called. “Seems I’ve run out of charges. I’d thought I had enough to make it to the top.”

Fjord looked down at the tiefling below him. “Kind of a dilemma, yeah.”

“I suppose you’re just going to blast me from there?” called the tiefling.

Fjord shrugged. “Doesn’t seem real sporting, if I’m being honest.”

“Your captain didn’t seem to have such a strong moral code!”

Fjord sighed. “I’m only hired for this job. I wish I’d known what she was like before taking the work.”

The tiefling reached up, grabbing onto a jutting rock and hauled himself a little higher on the cliff face. “Well, that’s good to know,” he called. “Don’t suppose you’ve got a rope or something on you that you could toss down?”

“And you’d be willing to accept my help?” Fjord called as the tiefling pulled himself a foot higher. “I  _ am _ supposed to kill you.”

“That does put a damper on our relationship,” the tiefling admitted. “And here we were getting on so well.”

“Well, I promise not to kill you ‘til you reach the top,” Fjord called. “Swear it as a sailor.”

“Eh, I’ve known quite a few sailors who’ve rather ruined that for me,” the tiefling said, his red scleras glinting through the holes in his mask.

Fjord was silent for a moment. “I could swear on the soul of my mentor Vandren instead? He was like a father to me and I would trust him with my life.”

The tiefling tipped his head. “Don’t know who that is but you sound significantly more serious than you did before, so sure. Toss me that rope, if you’d be so kind.”

Fjord did, quickly hauling the tiefling the rest of the way up the cliff. The two of them collapsed against a boulder, panting. 

“Much obliged,” the tiefling said, pulling off one of his boots. They were dusty black leather and went past his knees. He tipped a small amount of sand and rocks out of the boot before repeating the process with his other boot. 

Fjord glanced at the tiefling, taking him in fully. The mask was little more than a strip of cloth that covered the top half of his face and ears. Fjord imagined that a skullcap-type mask would be trickier with horns like those, but the fact the his ears were hidden…

“I, uh, don’t mean to pry,” he began, “But you don’t happen to have a messed-up ear, do you?” The tiefling looked at him curiously before lifting the side of his mask, revealing two very pierced but otherwise intact ears.

“I will admit, I’ve heard stranger conversation openers, but that one’s up there,” he said amiably. “Any reasoning behind that or is that from a deck of icebreaker cards?”

“Well, uh…” Fjord rubbed the back of his head somewhat self-consciously. “Vandren, the guy I mentioned? He more or less raised me. I was an orphan when I was little but I ran away to become a pirate.” He chuckled, a green flush coloring his face slightly. “Didn’t quite go as planned but I did end up on Vandren’s ship- just a regular ship, not a pirate ship or anything. He was willing to let me stay if I earned my keep, so I worked my ass off and ended up making it all the way to his first mate after several years.” Fjord sighed. “One day, we docked in a port and a few of us went ashore for a few hours, myself included. While we were gone… we never learned the full details, but there was a massacre. Two people- they slaughtered almost everyone on board. Vandren was one of the ones they killed. They were after some kind of artifact, I think- I had no idea we had anything like that on board. We didn’t get much about the attackers from the survivors but apparently an elf with a mangled ear was the one who killed Vandren.” Fjord scrubbed his face with his hands. “Vandren was the only one who’s ever really cared for me- least until I met Jester a couple years ago- so I figured the least I could do was hunt down his killer and avenge his death.”

The tiefling was silent for a few moments. “You’ve got a good heart,” he said eventually. “I’m sorry you had to throw your lot in with that pirate.” He fingered the hilt of one of his scimitars. “How about this?” he said after a moment. “Let’s duel, you and I.” He nodded to the sword strapped to Fjord’s hip. “I’ll even go one-handed,” he added with a smile. “If I win, I won’t kill you, and since your pirate friend will assume you’re dead, you can go about your business as you did before you joined up with her.” He rose to his feet. “If you win, you can do with me as you like- though I get the feeling we’ll both be leaving this encounter alive- and go meet up as planned. Or don’t, I don’t really care. It’s up to you.” He held out a hand to Fjord and hauled him up as well. “Deal?”

Fjord shook the tiefling’s hand. “Deal.”

The two turned and walked away from one another. Fjord unsheathed his sword. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it did the job. 

He wasn’t about to reveal his other sword to a strange tiefling just yet.

The tiefling had drawn a glassy scimitar from one of the sheaths at his hip. “Ready?”

Fjord raised his sword. “Whenever you are.”


End file.
